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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24291274">Princes of the Universe</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrutinizescribble/pseuds/scrutinizescribble'>scrutinizescribble</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ACCURATE, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Domestic Fluff, Drama, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romantic Friendship, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, There's A Tag For That, Violence, Wow, plenty of ocs - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:06:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,159</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24291274</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrutinizescribble/pseuds/scrutinizescribble</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shane Madej, the beloved Prince of Brightsea, was to fulfil his Father's terrible decree of an Arranged Marriage in order to be King and save his loved ones from exile. Follow along the journey of the trials and joy of growing up, becoming King and, of course, becoming a husband– and so much more.</p><p>Now, one might wonder where Ryan Bergara, Shane's best friend and Prince of La Riqueza, comes in; however, all that could be said is, sit tight and enjoy the ride to see where this story goes. </p><p>Beware! This ride will be lengthy and full of twists and turns; though fear not, for it is an incredibly pleasant one.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andrew Ilnyckyj/Steven Lim, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej, brief Ryan Bergara/OC, brief Shane Madej/OC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Changes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I am here to sin once again with this RPF. This is unbeta-ed so all mistakes are my own. </p><p>PS. I understand that they are real people and I respect them and their privacy. This is mere fiction and it is not canon. Please do respect them and their privacy too and keep this side of the fandom to ourselves. </p><p>Anyway, please enjoy the story! </p><p>(Title of the Story is yet another song title from Queen. I love them to bits.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kings and Queens, forebears and successors– taught of life and death, roles, and statuses to upkeep before they could walk.</p><p>Forced to have people’s future on their hands long before they were born to the world. Living a life that benefits the country, its people, and never themselves. Tolerate all the harassment by the media. Gambling their own lives day in, day out as they meet the public. Always having to be careful and aware of their surroundings. Taught to fear the quiet and the crowd at the same time. </p><p>Trapped in a sheltered and hovered life, with disownment or death as the only ticket way out.</p><p>Alas, it was the misfortune of being born into royalty. </p><p>It was something Shane knew through and through. </p><p>He had witnessed how it affected his loved ones, understanding that one day this curse would ruin him the way it ruined his family. Taking that knowledge like ducks swimming in the water.</p><p>Though, he never expected that such torment would come today. </p><p>A torment that was given so generously by his father. </p><p>“You cannot possibly be serious, Father.” Shane huffed, clutching the cool glass of whiskey on his hand to keep himself calm over the preposterous decree he was given. </p><p>His father’s absurd order made it seem as though he was incompetent.</p><p>How could he not understand that the Brightsea would be just fine in Shane’s capable hands? </p><p>He does not need any subject to aid nor to mentor him.</p><p>He does not need an ally to strengthen such a prosperous and flourishing Empire. </p><p>“I am gravely serious. A union with an influential kingdom is necessary. I will <em> not </em>let you have the crown until this arrangement has been done.” Marcus snapped, sounding far too frail and breathless to be intimidating as he was decades ago. </p><p>“I am capable of ruling Brightsea on my own. I would not settle for a loveless marriage simply because you have decided as such.” Shane shook his head because it seems that Marcus has lost his mind after falling ill. </p><p>“It is not about your capability. Marriage shows the public that you are capable of being a leader; it provides lessons on diplomacy and opportunities to colonize further.” Marcus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if Shane was the ridiculous and erratic one. </p><p>“The <em>public</em>. I cannot believe you are still appeasing them. You cast Scott away the last time you wanted to.” Shane scoffed, hoping that bringing up Scott would bring his father to his senses.</p><p>After all, Marcus never cared before– not when he married his mother or when he decided to have a string of affairs; so, why now?</p><p>“Do not bring him into this.” Marcus spat out, slamming his hand on his armrest; breaths heavy and wispy. </p><p>See, Shane would care and worry if it was anyone else; however, after all of the things he did, how he destroyed the family– it was only right if he were to suffer for once. </p><p>Even if a little. </p><p>“Shall I bring up the laundry list of affairs you have had instead?” Shane asked; a glimmer of satisfaction grew within as he saw the flared nose and downturned lips. </p><p>“Bringing up others’ mistakes now, are we? How mature.” Marcus mocked, face twisting into something so evil and ugly that he wondered what his mother saw in this vile, twisted man. </p><p>“Well, it is the reason why you wanted marriage, is it not? To get the media to cover something new and forget all the issues you have brought upon us all.” Shane pointed out, slamming down his glass onto the desk, smiling cruelly when Marcus flinched at the sound. </p><p>“You will get married before becoming king and that is final.” Marcus bellowed, standing up from his seat to loom over Shane.</p><p>“Well, if you were dead before you could find someone for me to marry, I would be King either way.” Shane casually replied, standing up straight to look down on Marcus; somewhat glad that he was taller than him.</p><p>“Oh, but I already do have someone in mind.” Marcus smugly goaded, challenging him with a glare that reminded Shane of a livid chihuahua.</p><p>Pathetic.</p><p>“I will make sure that they will not accept your proposition.” Shane retaliated, smirking at this pathetic excuse of a man he, unfortunately, has for a father and king.</p><p>“Then I will make sure that you will never be King. I will formally assign a suitable candidate to be one and have you robbed of all your titles and wealth before I die.” Marcus spat out, face red, and agitated as he went berserk; increasing and bloating Shane’s ego like no other.</p><p>“Mother and Babcia would never let that happen.” Shane cooly replied, gulping the glass of whiskey he had on the table; the burn of it a little consolation for having to put up with this senile’s antics and waste his breath entertaining said senile.</p><p>Oh, the things he does for the sake of the kingdom and his loved ones. </p><p>“They too will be stripped of all theirs. They will be miserable because of you.” Marcus added, voice so sure and confident that Shane faltered; immediately dropping the smirk and staying silent. </p><p>“Silent now, are we? I know you, Shane. I know your weaknesses.” Marcus taunted, smirking as though he was pleased with himself for coming up with such a malicious and heartless plan.</p><p>“You are a lunatic. How could you do that to your mother and wife?” Shane muttered, head pounding and hands shaking from the uncontrollable disbelief that overtook him; akin to the way poison enters one’s bloodstream.</p><p>“I will do anything to get what I want, Shane. I have the final word and <em> you </em> are to follow through with it.” Marcus replied with ease, slamming his hand onto the desk in finality before he hobbled his way out of Shane’s home office– head tilted high and steps full of arrogance.</p><p>–</p><p>Shane was–</p><p>He does not know exactly what it was that he felt but he knew through and through that, the unfamiliar burn of brimstone within his chest and the bile rising up his throat was taking over his soul like an infestation. A terrible one. </p><p>He was disappointed in himself. </p><p>How could he let that vile piece of shit get to his head and meddle with his feelings as if he was a puppet? Why did he not shut his feelings away, tuck it nice and pretty at the back of his mind? Why let the devil get the last word? Why could he not be in control of his goddamn self?</p><p>This persistent, awful feeling was beyond his control and forte. It made him imagine the millions of ways he wanted to ruin and crush that vicious, disgusting being– he was sure that he is <em>this </em>close to popping a vein and destroy someone’s life; well, one person in particular. </p><p>He was far from capable of handling it on his own. </p><p>He needed–</p><p>Ah, tea time with his mother and grandmother at the courtyard sounds perfect right now. </p><p>It would be nice to remind himself once again that there are some sane and good beings in this household. He was sure that they would not mind him intruding. </p><p>After all, he is their favourite. </p><p>“Babcia! Mother!” Shane called out as he approached the round table that was brimming with an assortment of small-sized delicacies and teapots and cups– hold on.</p><p>“Ryan?” Shane greeted in confusion, not expecting the presence of his best friend, who was too busy stuffing his face with some pretzel as if he was deprived of food for days. Knowing him and his gluttony, he was probably hungry even though he had lunch a few hours ago.</p><p>Not that Shane was judging, because stuffing his face does sound fantastic right now. </p><p>“Kochanie. Join us.” his grandmother, Zofia, patted on the only empty chair left, which was across Ryan’s.</p><p>“Darling, how was the discussion with your father?” Sherry greeted with a gentle smile, voice full of kindness, and tenderness that he couldn't get riled up over the question. </p><p>“Well, Marcus is Marcus.” Shane shrugged stiffly, ignoring the disapproving look his mother threw his way for using his father’s first name; instead, he focused on pouring himself some hot tea and accepting the meat hand-pie from his grandmother. </p><p>“Shane! Finally gracing us with your presence.” Ryan finally greeted back, a beaming smile plastered on his face; one so powerful that all of the terrible emotions that Shane came in with dissipated into nothing but a whisper of the past. </p><p>Well, that just proves that joining them for tea was the right choice. </p><p>“I could not just let you steal these beautiful ladies and have them to yourself,” Shane smirked, taking a big bite of the hand pie to prevent himself from laughing at Ryan’s scrunched nose and frown at his rather sycophant statement.  </p><p>“Such a sweetheart.” Sherry cooed at Shane, patting his hand in affection– none-the-wiser that his compliments were simply for the benefit of irking Ryan.</p><p>“All he’s doing is complimenting the both of you to gain more food to eat.” Ryan pointed out, voice petulant and utterly annoyed as he rolled his eyes at both his mother and grandmother's positive responses.</p><p>“Are you implying that I am not genuine and lovely?” Shane quirked an eyebrow, chuckling when Ryan started fake gagging before he finally broke too and dissolved into giggles. </p><p>He might say that they were chuckles but those high-pitched, youthful (childish, dare he say), ‘chuckles’ were definitely giggles, and Shane would not accept anything else. </p><p>“<em>You </em>are definitely not.” Ryan playfully answered, using a breadstick to point at Shane’s direction with such intensity; it was as if he was stating a fact instead of blatant lies and slander. </p><p>He is genuine and lovely, always– </p><p>Well, unless the situation needs a little bootlicking or villainy for him to win and gain an advantage over the situation. Though, that does not mean that he is never genuine and lovely– he is sure his mother and grandmother could vouch on that. </p><p>“Babcia, are you not going to defend my honour?” Shane complained playfully, smirking when Zofia simply huffed and continued tucking into her provolone and jam crackers.</p><p>“What’s there to defend?” Ryan replied in faux-confusion, propping his head with his other, unoccupied hand as he looked up and down at Shane’s way; eyes wide and searching– reminding him of the endearing, little salamander he and Ryan found during their camp at The Madej Forest 1 month ago. </p><p>Not that he found Ryan endearing. </p><p>As a matter of fact, he found Ryan to be far from it. </p><p>“Oh, you–” Shane began, giving him a dirty look as he tore off a small piece of breadstick, preparing himself to throw it at Ryan’s head; however, he suddenly came to an abrupt stop when–</p><p>“The two of you are being nieznośny. Stop it.” Zofia monotonously cut him off, leaving the two boys gaping at her way; sporting equally betrayed looks that would make a lesser person feel guilty. </p><p>Zofia, on the other hand, simply rolled her eyes at their identical sad, kicked puppy expressions before sipping her tea with such an unimpressed expression that Shane couldn’t help but to further irritate her. </p><p>Yes, he is the epitome of Grandson of the Year. </p><p>He is completely aware of that. </p><p>“Insufferable? Oh, Babcia I thought you loved me.” Shane lamented, holding back his mischievous smile when he saw Ryan’s face light up, brighter than the sun itself, before dimming into something that held promises of mischief and tricks.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m heartbroken Gramma, I thought I was your favourite,” Ryan whined, pouting with so much passion and petulance that Shane choked on his laughter; sounding eerily similar to a dying whale. </p><p>If anyone were to see him now, how he could manage to sulk with such<em> talent</em>; it was without a doubt that they would immediately know that Ryan was</p><p>–a little piece of shit.</p><p>“You both are equally my <em> favourite</em>, little children.” Zofia smiled with saccharine sweetness, as she stacked the warm plate of Shane and Ryan’s favourite boysenberry pie on top of her plate and slowly ruined it by stabbing and stirring the pie with her spoon; a sadistic grin on her face as Ryan began to cry out in protest and sulk. </p><p>Genuinely, this time. </p><p>“Mama!” Sherry rebuked, finally speaking up and saving the day; seemingly over with the role of being an amused bystander the moment food waste comes to play. </p><p>After all, Sherry was born and raised as a commoner– all too familiar with a simple and frugal way of living, of lectures about food wastage and saving money long before she even understood the workings of royalty. </p><p>“Yes? Is there something wrong?” Zofia innocently asked, emphasising each word by stirring the pie into a pastry and berry puree; leaving Sherry to sigh in resignation whilst Ryan–</p><p>“The Boysen Pie.” Ryan moaned, face downcast and eyes full of pain as he stared at what once was a pie. </p><p>It was an expression so unlike Ryan that it left an uneasy, unfamiliar sting; one that brought the desire to give Ryan everything he has just to see the shorter man cheer up once again. </p><p>–not that he would confess even under the threat of murder, because he knew Ryan would just call him a sentimental ‘softie’.</p><p>Whatever that meant. </p><p>“You are sadistic, Babcia. I love it but–” Shane began, gripping Zofia’s hand that held the spoon to stop her from stirring the mush further; in response, the older woman obeyed but she too <em>looked </em>at him with a cheeky glint on her eyes.</p><p>Oh, that is <em>not </em>a good look. </p><p>Just as Shane was about to take back his words and stammer his way out of danger, Andrew, bless their butler’s soul, interrupted the moment before it could get much worse.</p><p>“Pardon me, Your Majesties, Your Highnesses. The garments that Prince Ryan brought with him have been arranged in the parlour.” Andrew cleared his throat, always polite, robotic, and somewhat detached but Shane knew much better– from the arch of his brow to the twitch of his cheek, he was too amused for his good.</p><p>Even Andrew, the ever stoic man, found the scene before him amusing and ridiculous. </p><p>How embarrassing. </p><p>“Thank you, Andrew. You are dismissed.” Sherry primly replied, blissfully unaware of Andrew’s silent judgment as she thanked him. </p><p>“Your Majesties, Your Highnesses.” Andrew bowed, walking away from the table without so much of a glance elsewhere; thus, leaving the group to themselves once more. However, this time, all there was, was silence–</p><p>That is until Shane and Ryan’s gazes meet, and Shane decides to break into a peal of hysterical laughter that was soon enough followed by Ryan’s laughter– causing his grandmother to smile whilst his mother simply shook her head in exasperation.</p><p>“Shall we go to the parlour?” Sherry asked when both Ryan and Shane were occupied with wiping the tears from their eyes, finally done with their laughing fit.</p><p>“Yes, we shall. Shane, are you joining us?” Ryan breathlessly said, pink on his cheeks a soft contrast to his Soleil tan skin paired with eyes that glimmered brightly. </p><p>It was such a sight that Shane could not help but stare for a moment, eyes magnetized as if he had just uncovered a hidden treasure trove. However, that moment quickly dissipates when Zofia decides it would be fun to bring him out of his reverie–</p><p>By kicking him on the shin.</p><p>“Actually, I would like to have a private word with Babcia first. I hope you don’t mind, Babcia.” Shane finally answered, tearing his eyes away from Ryan’s face to look at Zofia, who now donned a pointed look that left him uncomfortably vulnerable. </p><p>So much so, that he had to avoid her gaze and opt to look at the fine china before him.</p><p>“Of course not. I will see you later, Sherry.” Zofia answered, finally diverting her attention to his mother instead of his profile– letting him breathe freely once more.</p><p>“Alright, I’ll see you both later, darlings.” Sherry bid her farewell, pairing it with a kiss to Shane’s forehead once she had stood up.</p><p>“Gramma. Big Guy,” Ryan cheerily said, slapping Shane’s shoulder affectionately and grinning at Zofia before walking away from the table hand-in-hand with Sherry until all that’s left were the echoes of their voices and– </p><p>“–would think you are a lovesick fool,” Zofia commented off-handedly, taking another sip of her tea when Shane turned and gave her a look of confusion. </p><p>“Pardon me?” Shane asked when Zofia stayed mum, simply looking at him with her iconic long-suffering look; this one, in particular, looks like she was blaming him for her greying hair and stress lines. </p><p>“Are we going to talk or are we going to keep this staring contest? I’m withering away here.” Zofia raised an eyebrow, acting far too sarcastic and borderline mean for someone who has the unassuming-grandmother-look. </p><p>Some days, he can’t believe this was his grandmother; even more, it truly was beyond his understanding, why Zofia was one of his favourite people to this day. </p><p>– </p><p>“You and Grandfather had an arranged marriage, am I correct?” Shane cautiously asked, careful and attentive of Zofia’s body language.</p><p>He was, after all, very familiar with the sheer hatred Zofia has for her late husband– even though he barely knew why. </p><p>Not that he would ever ask her if he could, not when he still remembered how indifferent and aloof–borderline<em> psychopathic </em>–she looked during the filming of his grandfather’s burial. </p><p>“Forced marriage, why do you ask?” Zofia casually answered, stopping mid slice of yet another serving of cake to give him her undivided attention. </p><p>“Sure. How did that work out for you?” Shane continued, taking the knife and cake away from Zofia to continue where she left off just so that he had something to do <em>and </em>ensure that she was far enough from anything sharp.</p><p>It was better to be safe than sorry, after all.</p><p>“I married a tyrant, a bully, and a completely worthless leader,” Zofia replied oh so nicely, stabbing a sandwich with her fork with such malice that he could not help but turn wide-eyed at the sight. </p><p>“How sweet of you.” Shane teased once he recovered, silently relieved when she broke into a smile and shook her head at his comment. </p><p>“He is <em>dead</em>. A little condemning would not hurt him as much as hellfire does.” Zofia haughtily remarked, the smile still plastered on her face; looking far too wholesome for such gruesome words. </p><p>“Holy shit.” Shane laughed in disbelief, reminded once again that one should never judge a book by its cover; especially the media.</p><p>It was fascinating how she is one of the only Brightsea’s Royalties that is loved and adored by the media and people for her demure and maternal charm. </p><p>When in reality– oh, little did they know.</p><p>“What conversation did you have with Marcus?” Zofia asked, immediately putting Shane’s laughter into a halt. </p><p>He knew she would figure it out quickly. </p><p>With Zofia’s ability to read Shane like an open book, it was impossible to hide things from her– how naive of him to think that he could escape from being interrogated this time. </p><p>“Well, your son–” Shane began, face full of disdain as he recalled the conversation he had with his father. </p><p>“Your ojciec, you mean.” Zofia corrected automatically, smirking like a cat that got the canary when Shane immediately grimaced in disgust– smug old lady, she is. </p><p>“<em>Marcus </em> decided that I must marry before my coronation.” Shane huffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back on his seat and stretched his legs out, pushing at Zofia’s feet until she kicked him in retaliation. </p><p>“Must? He forced you?” Zofia raised an eyebrow, smug smirk too weak to hide the blatant tension on her body as if she was fighting the urge to maim someone. </p><p>He would definitely not hold her back if she decides to sucker-punch Marcus. </p><p>Castrating works too, if that is what she is interested in. </p><p>Shane was far from fastidious. </p><p>Beggars cannot be choosers, after all.</p><p>“Clearly. I would never agree to a loveless marriage if I were given a choice.” Shane rolled his eyes, causing the older woman to, yet again, kick his leg in reprimand. </p><p>“What was at stake?” Zofia enquired, expression amused and indulgent; belying the embodiment of sheer ferocity and viciousness within her tone. </p><p>It <em>was </em>quite humorous to see the person that single-handedly brought the Empire to its glory respond in such a way as if they were planning a war instead of discussing Shane’s love life. </p><p>“Nothing important.” Shane shrugged, mentally ready, and well-prepared; knowing all too well that her inquisition would bring them here.</p><p>How predictable. </p><p>As powerful as she is, raising Shane all on her own, was a mistake. For it gave him the leverage of knowing her all too well; making her vulnerable and a liability. In ways, she was just as much of an open book to him, as he is to her. </p><p>“I know you would not keel under a paltry threat. Tell me.” Zofia huffed, pressing on as if she had yet to figure out the reason. As if she knew nothing about Marcus and his second-rate, oppressive nature.</p><p>What difference does Shane’s confirmation make anyway? </p><p>Assure her that her son is the bastard of the century who shits on everyone’s fun as his side job? </p><p>“Does it matter? What matters is that I would be facing the same fate you had.” Shane sighed, imagining an unfeeling and cold expression on his face during his wedding day; one that was similar to Zofia’s during his grandfather’s funeral. </p><p>Well, if that was not a grim and morbid thought. </p><p>“Has Marcus elected the person?” Zofia continued with her interrogation, bringing Shane out of his nightmare-like vision of living the wonderful life of suffering. </p><p>“He said so.” Shane shrugged, slouching on his chair when the identical defeat he felt was mirrored on Zofia’s face– all signs of amusement wiped off of her face. </p><p>That does not look good, does it?</p><p>“Then you will be facing a much worse fate.” Zofia sagely muttered, a sullen and resigned look as she toyed with the teaspoon before her; eyes focused on the aforementioned teaspoon as if it held the secrets to life. </p><p>“You must be joking.” Shane groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate the growing headache caused by the disaster his poor excuse of a father created; after all, if Zofia, his one and only hope, reacted in such a manner–</p><p>He might as well be as good as dead.</p><p>“I had a romantic man who deeply loved and cared for me. Knowing Marcus, he would probably choose someone useless and heartless.” Zofia sighed, getting out of her seat to pat Shane’s head consolingly– pity and pain written as clear as day on her face.</p><p>“Was your marriage even awful?” Shane inquisitively, eyes closed and pliant under Zofia’s ministrations; at least, on the bright side, he still had his grandmother that cared for him even if he ended up marrying the wicked witch of the west. </p><p>“He was a great lover but he left me with his diabeł child and an atrociously managed empire. So, you tell me.” Zofia playfully scoffed, combing through Shane’s hair meticulously– reminding him of simpler times, of youths and sluggish afternoons, of a toddler-sized Shane napping under the tree with his head on Zofia’s lap and hair tangled between her fingers as she told tales of warriors and beheaded tyrants; careless and free as the breezing wind. </p><p>“The demon child is as much yours as it was his,” Shane smirked, before dissolving into chuckles when Zofia began to indignantly huff and puff as if Shane had just disrespected her at the highest degree.</p><p>“Excuse you, I barely raised him. Your dziadek wanted to control Marcus’ development in every way.” Zofia protested, stopping her gentle touches to opt for smacking Shane right on his forehead; leaving the latter to jolt out of his relaxed state and frown petulantly at Zofia’s looming face above him.</p><p>“Oh.” Shane stopped short as realization dawned upon him, however, his jaw quickly snapped shut at the sight of Zofia’s face; who looked very much aware and alert of what Shane’s revelation was and what dots he had connected. </p><p>Shit. </p><p>He should have known better and kept tight control of his wayward expressions. </p><p><em> Especially </em>when he was in proximity with Zofia.</p><p>After all, as much as he would like for Marcus to get the karma he deserves and see his short grandmother castrate him or even reprimand him– it simply does not seem fair or mature to burden his grandmother and ask her to fix his problems. </p><p>He was only here to ask for advice, not pout and beg for his grandmother to save the day for him as if he was not capable. His grandmother had been burdened for far too long, to add more onto her plate just–</p><p>does not seem right.</p><p>“Do tell me, what was at stake?” Zofia went cold, eyes hardened with unbridled fury and mouth stretched thin into a disapproving frown, moving away from Shane as if his words had just burned her. </p><p>“Is there any way for me to avoid this whole fiasco?” Shane cleared his throat, ignoring her question and the thick, unbearable tension as if he was an imbecile who does not know how to read the room.</p><p>It was hopeless and far too late for him to backtrack and pretend but he was not one to give in too easily. He knew how dangerous Zofia could be when angered, he would not unleash such a monster. </p><p>Even upon his worst enemy. </p><p>He needed her to be calm, and he will do whatever it takes for her to be so. </p><p>“I am not helping you until you tell me.” Zofia quietly seethed, her wrath so beautifully hidden under her stoic expression– a lesser person would have been fooled by it. </p><p>Unfortunately for her, Shane was not just some person. He could spot the too clenched jaw and the stiff, weirdly angled crossed arms; hidden from plain sight and defensive, even from such a distance. As much as she tries to hide behind her mask, she is giving away everything. </p><p>She was as obvious as a sore thumb even if Shane stood on the moon. </p><p>“And I am not saying anything until you are at peace.” Shane sighed, keeping his eyes trained on her whilst trying to seem as non-threatening as he could; not that it was an easy feat with his rigid back and expression that does not seem to want to cooperate with him. </p><p>“Tell. Me.” Zofia ground out, ice tundra behind her wise eyes and a ghost of the psychopathic, decorated war hero written all over her face– once again, reminding Shane of her sheer power.</p><p>He knew that age did not affect Zofia in a way that it should; be it mentally or physically. She was still as dangerous and sharp as she was during her reign. He knew he was playing with fire, one that would most likely burn him to ash– leave him desperate for air and something to ground him. </p><p>Even though he knew that she would not harm him, accidentally or not, the human in him feared. </p><p>Terribly. </p><p>It made him fear in a manner that he had not felt for a long time, not since– </p><p>“I would not be King.” Shane lied through his teeth, the steadiness of his voice and relaxed posture belying the pounding of his heart; adrenaline rushing through him as if he was facing a predator instead of his grandmother. </p><p>Though, to be clear, he was telling the truth. </p><p>Marcus did try to pull out all of his cards and magic tricks until he found the right one; one that was a sore spot for Shane– or as one would say: his Achilles’ heel. </p><p>Honestly, how Marcus had yet to be overthrown was beyond him, his observance and leadership (or lack thereof) were far from suitable for any position within the Royalty. </p><p>“Fałsz. I do not believe you!” Zofia scoffed, offence and hurt an ugly colour on her face as she slammed her hand onto the table; the table and its contents slammed and shook from the force yet she stayed unblinking as if it was a mere white noise. </p><p>Funny. </p><p>It’s hilarious how this conversation was what broke the camel’s back. </p><p>The thing that left his inner self to blow the lit candle.</p><p>A slight gust of his breath, and the candle within dies. </p><p>Within seconds, all of the fear and emotions within him shutters and dies along with it–</p><p>until all was left the familiar and soothing darkness, one that he had craved to feel since his conversation with his father.</p><p>Nothing but silence in his head and indifference in his heart; senses shut away from the loud clang and the pain written all over Zofia’s face. Only tranquil darkness, ambient and comforting, in his mind, filling his senses but never overwhelming it. </p><p>“It was one of them,” Shane answered blandly, sitting straight to take the pain au chocolat that was hanging precariously on the edge of the table, begging to be saved from an unworthy demise. </p><p>“It was not the one that made you give in.” Zofia fumed, stomping back and forth before him with such violence that Shane imagined the ground beneath her would cry and shriek in pain if they could.</p><p>“I told you. Is it not enough?” Shane quirked an eyebrow, taking a bite of the pain au chocolat that was on his hand. After all, he would not like it if his mother decides to lecture him regarding food wastage again. </p><p>Honestly, he was surprised she has yet to make a charity organisation out of it. </p><p>“It had something to do with your Matka and me. Am I correct?” Zofia pursed her lips as she bore her deathly eyes at him as if her stare was enough to pull information and answers out of Shane; like it was some form of telepathy. </p><p>“Anger does not solve anything, Babcia,” Shane declared in between chews, tilting his teacup upright so he could pour some more tea for himself– barely glancing or paying mind at Zofia who was now silent. </p><p>Eerily silent. </p><p>“I know how to help you now.” Zofia finally broke the silence, voice brilliantly cunning and ice cold in the best possible way. </p><p>Somehow, between him finishing his pastry and washing the sweetness away, she had turned fiery, burning hot anger into something frigid and far more calculative and measured. </p><p>More deadly than before. </p><p>“I will <em> not </em> let you help me, not until you are calm.” Shane sternly replied, finally looking dead straight at his grandmother, who is now sporting a rather collected yet deranged look; as if she had lost her mind from all the anger and had gone completely and utterly–</p><p>Batshit crazy. </p><p>“I am <em> calm </em>.” Zofia huffed, moving to sit on her seat once more with a grin that was more teeth and hazard than anything. </p><p>“You have a peculiar way of showing it.” Shane chuckled with lack of humour, taking Sherry’s teacup to replace Zofia’s, that, unfortunately, was nothing but a million little shards of ivory on the floor; thoroughly destroyed after falling from such a height.</p><p>“I am calm, stop mocking me,” Zofia complained before giggling, seemingly playful and normal once again as if she had not turned into a psychotic evil witch moments ago.</p><p>It was unfortunate that Shane could not believe any of the bit. </p><p>For her eyes and twitchiness told more than her obvious gestures could; for she could never lie nor fool someone like him, someone that knew and sees her true nature more than enough to last two lifetimes.</p><p>So much for handling things himself.</p><p>Well, on the bright side–</p><p>at least he is old enough to take over as King, and Marcus is ill enough for it to pass up as a natural death. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. You've Got a Friend in Me (Pt. 1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Well, if you're so bored, why don’t we get out of here?” Ryan offered with newfound comprehension, pout forgotten and was replaced with a curious glint in his eyes; always the little detective, wanting to unveil and uncover every puzzle or mystery– even if it meant poking his nose in a pile of garbage or scaring the shit out of himself.</p><p>Shane would call it endearing, though most days he simply called it annoying.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yes, you saw the title correctly. This is a part of one massive Chapter– which mostly contains banter between our dearest pair and a whole lot of fluff. So, stay tuned for the other half for there will be more characters introduced. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Shutting out his feelings was something he learnt the first time he felt fear at its purest form– at the tender age of five, long before Zofia came clean (as clean as she could be) and moved on from her past hobbies that involved dealing and meddling with the underworld.</p><p>Shane was a mere scrappy child with so much naivety and innocence in his head, only familiar with bad villains that were in fairy tales, of big bad wolves that end up in jail or beheaded; that the heroes will always save the day and sweep victory into its arms.</p><p>Then, ransom, torture and sleepless nights happened. </p><p>He lost track of the pain and agony. He prayed for someone to save him until he lost his belief in prayer and his voice along the way. He lost his faith in everything and his innocence was in shreds after each insult and bloodshed. </p><p>He could no longer stand by the principle of black and white that he learnt from his mother; for all he saw were greys– multitudes of black and white mixed until his head was dizzy and everything was evil and cruel in his eyes. </p><p>Shane lost many things, but he too gained even more things. </p><p>He gained control over what he could; </p><p>his fears and pain.</p><p>Look, Shane loves emotions and the concept of it all; he loved that he could feel elation and cry over something as mundane as a romance movie. Emotions were something that intrigued him and often felt. However, sometimes those emotions could turn into a double-edged sword, a liability– a weakness. </p><p>To feel the enormous pain and cry or sob and wail after each slice on his skin or a good beating, it was inconvenient at best. To show that he was weak and afraid or that every sliver of mercy they gave was a treasure in his eyes, it did not help anyone– most of all him. </p><p>He knew that his emotions were his kidnappers’ greatest ally and his worst enemy. </p><p>He knew of it, and he did something about it. </p><p>He remembered bashing said emotions within until everything was sucked out and left dry, a mere shell that felt nothing and was fine about it. </p><p>More than fine about it.</p><p>Most therapists called it PTSD or a form of coping mechanism and whatnot, but it never felt like something he used as a comfort blanket; it was simply a skill he acquired, a hobby he partakes on because it was good for him and essential to his survival.</p><p>It was one hobby that was particularly helpful the moment one Linda Bergara swooped in and turned his torturers into human kebabs before bringing little Shane, or whatever was left of him, to her abode. </p><p>Which then, brought him to the second thing he gained. </p><p>A friendship with one particular emotional wreck, snotty little brat, and sunny little boy brighter than the brightest stars, that goes by the name–</p><p>Ryan Bergara.</p><p>Perhaps, it seemed a bit much to say that.</p><p>After all, he did gain a second family too–with Linda, Steven and Jake–but they paled in comparison to his best friend, his partner-in-crime, his better half– as many would say.</p><p>Although he hated emotions and anything related to it at that time, it was impossible to despise Ryan, who seemed to have more emotions than he could contain and are far too amplified for his tastes. </p><p>Ryan had always been different.</p><p>Ryan had always been a constant in his life, like the cool air he breathes, or the crunch of crisp leaves underneath his feet during– </p><p>“Earth to Sasquatch.” Ryan squealed in his ear, snapping Shane out of his reverie to shoot Ryan a dirty look that would deter anyone– anyone but Ryan, that is. </p><p>He has yet to determine if Ryan had become immune or just too insane to care. </p><p>“Yes, little man?” Shane sweetly answered, knowing all too well that it would rile Ryan up; taking pleasure in the fact that he would go speechless and irritated– predictable and always amusing.</p><p>Just as expected, he began sputtering before slouching onto the back of the sofa; huffing and rolling his eyes with his arms crossed because he loves to show just how much of a brat he is. </p><p>“Do not call me Sasquatch just because you are vertically challenged.” Shane scoffed playfully, raising his brow when Ryan whipped his head to glare at Shane; always one for drama and theatrics.</p><p>If one did not know better, they would think Ryan was mad at him. </p><p>However, if they just paid a<em> little </em>more attention, they would see the twitch of his lips– a promise of a beaming and wide grin.</p><p>“I’ll show you vertically challenged.” Ryan threatened, losing the battle with his mighty grin when Shane, unexpectedly guffawed; a happy chime holding a healthy mix of exasperation and fondness that further widened Ryan’s Cheshire smile.</p><p>“Impressive come back.” Shane teased, nodding his head and pursing his lips as if impressed, leaving the smaller man to wheeze at his antics and push Shane by the shoulder. </p><p>“It made you laugh! Oh, I thought for one second your nerves were fried to crisps.” Ryan excitedly pointed out, poking his index finger insistently on Shane’s stubbled cheek as if it were play-doh.</p><p>“I will bite your little fingers if you do not stop.” Shane huffed, taking a grip of Ryan’s wrist and pushing it off his face to place it on Ryan’s lap; surprisingly, instead of initiating a little wrestling fest that Ryan loves to do– he went limp and let Shane do whatever he pleases. </p><p>Huh. </p><p>“Wanna talk about it?” Ryan asked softly, his enthusiastic smile dimmed into something comforting and serious as he traced his fingers and eyes along Shane’s inner arm; one that happened to be connected to the hand that still held Ryan’s wrist.</p><p>Ah. The million-dollar question. </p><p>He always did think that Ryan was far too observant for his own good.</p><p>Then again, he knew that if Ryan did not dare to nose around– he would not be Ryan that Shane knew and bestowed as his best mate.</p><p>“–I am bored to death sitting here, watching them fawn over a dress that looked identical to the other forty they have tried,” Shane finally answered after a large pause, glancing at both his mother and grandmother who were too occupied with a swarm of garments and chatter before returning his gaze to meet Ryan’s; hoping that he would get the message Shane was trying to convey.</p><p>“Liar.” Ryan accused, eyes sharp and nose scrunched adorably as if Shane’s words tasted sour and acrid in his tongue; far too familiar with Shane’s bullshit but not enough that he immediately caught the hidden meaning behind Shane’s lie. </p><p>Well, at least he tried.</p><p>“And you are ignorant.” Shane tutted, letting go of Ryan’s wrist to flick the offending nose which caused the younger man to go crossed-eyed before rubbing his nose with a small pout. </p><p>Shane can surely deem that look as illegal, can he? </p><p>He cannot believe that he is saying this, but as unflappable Shane is, he is still human after all. As a human with feelings, he can safely say that whatever Ryan was doing to his face– it was at a level of cuteness that should never be legal. </p><p>Even puppies cannot attain this level of adorable. </p><p>It is an absolute– disgust. </p><p>Yes, that is the word.</p><p>“Well, if you’re so <em> bored</em>, why don’t we get out of here?” Ryan offered with newfound comprehension, pout forgotten and was replaced with a curious glint in his eyes; always the little detective, wanting to unveil and uncover every puzzle or mystery– even if it meant poking his nose in a pile of garbage or scaring the shit out of himself.</p><p>Shane would call it endearing, though most days he simply called it annoying.</p><p>“We? Who said I am planning an escape with you?” Shane teased, removing himself from the seat to do a quick stretch of his legs; revelling in the grimace that appeared on Ryan’s face when his knees popped loudly from his weight. </p><p>“I’m going with you anyway.” Ryan scrambled up, quickly standing up before crossing his arms and looking up at Shane with a challenge written on his face, daring the taller man to argue with him.</p><p>Shane was not sure if Ryan was attempting to look intimidating, but if he was, then all Shane could say was that he failed. Miserably. </p><p>Of course, Shane would not say it outright because he is not that bad of a person– though, he <em>is </em>terrible enough that he huffed out an amused chuckle at the sight. </p><p>“How does horse riding sound to you?” Shane nonchalantly asked, draping an arm on Ryan’s shoulder before dragging him closer; immediately causing the latter to relax and grin at Shane’s way– pleased that he got what he wanted.</p><p>Brat.</p><p>“<em>Clandestine</em>,” Ryan whispered theatrically, taking hold of Shane’s hand on his shoulder and tugging it as he briskly paced towards the door as if he was a toddler high on sugar; forcing Shane to follow suit, almost tripping on his legs at the sudden movement. </p><p>“Where are you both going?” Sherry cleared her throat behind them, causing Ryan to turn and looked at Shane with an expectant look on his face.</p><p>Of course, Ryan would want him to answer her.<br/><br/>He should not let Ryan make a habit of simply getting everything he wants with a simple pout and a set of, rather deadly, puppy eyes. </p><p>Actually. </p><p>What a nice opportunity was this. </p><p>“Finding Big Foot, Mother. Ryan is far too shy to admit the–” Shane smirked evilly, pleased to see Ryan gasp and throw an indignant look his way on his periphery. </p><p>“<em>Shane </em>.” Ryan hissed under his breath, pinching Shane’s rib with all the might of his cruel little fingers; without fail, the taller man flinched at the searing pain before shooting a reprimanding glare at Ryan’s way. </p><p>Unsurprisingly, Ryan stuck his tongue out childishly at Shane’s glare before darting his eyes away and taking his fingers off of Shane’s side.</p><p>“Sherry, leave them be– you know how they are.” Zofia’s chimed playfully, snapping Shane’s attention back to his mother and Babcia; who are both wearing twin, private smiles that Shane found to be quite–</p><p>Alarming.</p><p>“Have fun and be safe, children.” Sherry bid, the smile still plastered on her face as she waved them off– yet her eyes did not waver from Shane’s, as if she had just realised something that Shane knew nothing about. </p><p>He does not like that look on her. Not one bit.</p><p>“Not too much fun, got it. Wouldn’t want Shane to combust his massive noggin.” Ryan joked, none the wiser about the change of atmosphere in the room as he waved goodbye at Zofia and Sherry’s way before grabbing Shane’s arm and physically dragging him out of the room.</p><p>As much as his short stature could let him, that is. </p><p>– </p><p>There was a special beauty that resides within his forest. </p><p>He was not sure if it was the tune of mother nature that embraced him like a soulful hug and blessed his ears with melodious songs, the constant breeze that seemed to guide him into adventures and takes his anxiety away with it, the balance of light and darkness that filters through the gargantuan trees; casting shadows that seemed to dance eternally, or perhaps, </p><p>It was simply because he could truly be himself in the safety of this untouchable, perfectly flawed, paradise; with no watchful eyes nor duty in mind, he could let his guard down and connect with the swaying trees, the free birds or the soil that never failed to ground him.</p><p>The Madej Forest was his Eden: the entity that never failed to bring peace even when his heart was weary, a place he kept near and dear to his heart– locked and taken away from the nation so that only he could have it selfishly, a solace for him to heal his wounds and clear his mind when people were too unreliable and dangerous.</p><p>He could imagine building a home right at the heart of this forest, just him and Ryan– within the depth of this place he called heaven on earth; venturing for the rest of their lives and enjoying solitude without care for status, roles and duty to upkeep.</p><p>Yes. </p><p>Of course, he would drag Ryan with him. </p><p>After all, what was the point of living in a forest without a little amusement from his skittish friend? From a little shriek because the tree brushed the wrong way or a good session of freaking himself out because a possum ran past him?</p><p>It was simply too good to miss. </p><p>“If I die, make sure that you bury me in the middle of this forest.” Shane thoughtfully requested, glancing behind him to make sure that Ryan was still on the horse and was listening to him instead of arguing with his wayward horse. </p><p>“Dude. <em> If </em> you die?” Ryan wheezed, startling his horse and nearly toppling over in the process.</p><p>See, Ryan was usually apt when it came to sports; incredibly so, to a point where he has his little basketball friends to train with and even went as far as taking up going to the gym regularly– lifting weights and constantly torturing his own body because he is a masochist. </p><p>Therefore, it was quite difficult for Shane to wrap his head around the fact that Ryan is incredibly <em>shit </em>at horse riding; an activity that was as easy as riding a bike and was sure as hell much easier than <em>basketball</em>.</p><p>Perhaps, it was Shane’s fault in some ways. </p><p>Not that he would outright admit that. </p><p>“Yes, Ry. Who knows? Perhaps a decade from now we could Cryo Freeze our body and achieve immortality along the way.” Shane casually replied, slowing his horse to go in tempo with Ryan’s, just to reduce the chances of the latter from toppling over and cracking his skull open. </p><p>After all, it would be difficult for Shane to spend time with Ryan if he were to die a premature death. </p><p>“Oh? You’d prefer that over being buried in the cold and damp forest you have a fetish for?” Ryan teased, an insufferable smirk on his face as he looked at Shane; goading him into ranting about how normal his love is for his forest. </p><p>For the record, it is <em>perfectly </em>normal.</p><p>“Just because you are afraid of this place–” Shane snarked, smirk in place as he looked at Ryan’s expression; a look full of challenge and feist replacing the teasing smirk that once reigned on his face. </p><p>Bingo.</p><p>“I bet if you’re here alone, you would have heebie-jeebies.” Ryan retorted defensively, before snapping his reins with so much force that the horse underneath him shrieked in surprise and taking off at lightning speed.</p><p>“What the fuck?” Shane chuckled in disbelief, snapping his reins to catch up with Ryan so he could tease the life out of Ryan for his previous comment. </p><p>Well, the thought of Ryan getting lost or injuring himself played a part at the urgency but Ryan would call him sentimental or something just as derogatory if Shane were to say it out loud. </p><p>“You heard me.” Ryan haughtily answered, barely glancing his way even though Shane was on his line of sight; too busy glaring at his unmoving horse, who was far too skittish to edge further into the darkness.</p><p>Who knew a horse could be incredibly similar to its owner? </p><p>“Your horse got the <em> Heebie Jeebies. </em>” Shane wheezed, ruffling Ryan’s hair before bursting out into laughter once again– revelling in the fact that Ryan cannot escape unless he walked away.</p><p>Not that he could anyway, not unless he wants to risk being lost in a place he seemed so frightened of. </p><p>“I hate you.” Ryan groused, glaring at him with all his might as he fixed his hair; attempting to reach a state of intimidation, yet somehow, went and landed onto a state of a three-year-old throwing a fit.</p><p>“No, you do not.” Shane cheerily replied, dismounting from his horse and tying its reins onto a tree trunk with practised efficacy; watching in amusement as Ryan struggled to dismount his. </p><p>“Whatever. Are you going to tell me what’s going on or are you planning to murder me here?” Ryan rolled his eyes at Shane, huffing and grumbling to himself as he tried to find a safe way to land on the ground– on his own two feet if he was particularly lucky.</p><p>“You would probably break your own neck first before I could,” Shane smirked, stretching out a hand towards Ryan; an offer that was taken immediately but alas, it had to be paired with his trademark whining. </p><p>“It’s your fault I’m terrible at this,” Ryan grumbled, handing in his reins to Shane before sliding off of the horse with an air of confidence he did not have moments ago.</p><p>“Admit it. You do not have the talent, Ry.” Shane teased, securing Ryan’s horse beside his before turning to face his friend– who now looked like he was preparing a lengthy lecture.</p><p>That is not ideal. </p><p>For his ears or sanity.</p><p>“Well, if you let me ride my own horse instead of riding double with you back then, I would’ve been better than you,” Ryan complained, frowning so deeply and dramatically that it looked like he was trying to fold his face like an origami.</p><p>“And get you lost in the forest or injure yourself?” Shane raised his brow, barely holding back his shit-eating grin when Ryan stared at him as though he intended to punch him.</p><p>“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan softly muttered out, the hint of grin gracing his lips and the sides of his eyes; magically driving away any bite or sting within the well-used line.</p><p>“I thought you wanted me to spill the beans?” Shane asked in faux confusion, eyes wide and inquiring as he looked at Ryan; though, said expression quickly melted into a grin when Ryan smacked his shoulder in retaliation.</p><p>“Fuck you, man.” Ryan shook his head with a good-natured grin on his face, tugging Shane by the arm as he paced towards the clearing ahead– a place to soak up the little sun they had and fool around like the children they are. </p><p>“We have not even had a first date. How <em> scandalous </em>.” Shane gasped dramatically, snatching his arm away from Ryan’s grasp to cover his chest as though he was thoroughly petrified by his friend’s statement.</p><p>Just as expected, Ryan threw his head back and cackled like a little witch: all-white teeth, eyes brighter than the stars and well-tanned neck that– </p><p>Hold on.</p><p>“Is that a hickey I see?” Shane grinned like a cat that caught the canary, knowing that this was the perfect opportunity to divert Ryan’s attention and get his dose of Little Mr B’s fumble and stumble session. </p><p>“What? No!” Ryan defensively shrilled, clutching his neck and backing away from Shane with such fright once would think Shane was about to behead him.  </p><p>“Somebody has been getting lucky! Who’s the unlucky woman?” Shane teased, manic glee plastered on his face when Ryan indignantly gasped and came to an abrupt stop; all thoughts of escape seemingly forgotten.</p><p>“Shut up, Shane.” Ryan flipped him off, turning away from Shane to march his way into the meadow; huffing and puffing under his breath like the drama queen he is as he paved his way.</p><p>“Oh, but this is some saucy story, baby!” Shane called out after him, chasing Ryan with ease– all thanks to Ryan’s stubby little legs–before swinging an arm around Ryan’s shoulder; a sure-fire way to stop Ryan from escaping.</p><p>After all, if there’s one thing to know about Ryan, it is that he would never pass the chance of gaining physical affection.</p><p>“Look at that, you are embarrassed. Must be a big deal then.” Shane smirked, watching with delight as Ryan’s face flushed further at Shane’s statement. </p><p>“Not really,” Ryan muttered out shyly, hunching on himself as he focused on the path ahead as if he had never been in the forest before this. </p><p>Adorable. </p><p>“Really? Your hickey is the size of Texas.” Shane huffed in amusement, feeling strange and weirded out at the sight of the hickey that seemed to take over Shane’s attention now that he had discovered it. </p><p>Perhaps, it was the fact that it looked like a vacuum had somehow latched onto Ryan’s neck and sucked on it for dear life. </p><p>A very possessive vacuum.</p><p>“Also, you look like a tomato,” Shane added for good measure, tearing his eyes away from the bruise and instead focus on Ryan’s flushed nape– </p><p>“Stop pointing things out, you psycho.” Ryan slapped Shane’s chest, attempting to sound annoyed but ended up giggling like a maniac when Shane scrunched his nose up in distaste at Ryan’s insult.</p><p>“I’ll share if you tell me what’s going on, after.” Ryan cajoled after a brief moment of silence, nudging at Shane’s rib with his elbow whilst grinning– somehow able to bring back the topic Shane had tried to divert Ryan from in the first place. </p><p>He really cannot escape Ryan’s inquisitive brain, can he?</p><p>“Sure.” Shane sighed in resignation, though he was somewhat consoled when Ryan jumped up and grinned wider at Shane’s agreement– looking very much like an excited puppy.</p><p>“Do not get too excited, you have yet to share with the class.” Shane grinned back, gaining the upper hand once again when Ryan stopped his little celebration and pouted at Shane for ruining his fun.</p><p>“She was hired by Mama to paint an official portrait for my 28th birthday.” Ryan finally admits with a voice so soft that Shane, who was pretty much plastered against Ryan, strained to hear the admission. </p><p>A painter. </p><p>Shane knew that Ryan was a romantic, but <em>this </em>is something otherworldly. </p><p>“Draw me like one of your french men, Mademoiselle.” Shane joked, voice swiftly becoming squeaky and falsetto; a beautifully perfect imitation of Ryan’s voice.</p><p>“Oh god. Why am I your friend?” Ryan cringed in annoyance, pushing Shane away by the chest with a grumble; paying no mind to the hysterical chuckles emitted from the older man.</p><p>“Because I am far too irresistible, incredible and–” Shane smirked obnoxiously, rambling mindlessly with a hand waving about in the air as if he was mentioning the truth and nothing but the truth.</p><p>“Okay, asshole. Now you’re just dragging this bit out to avoid spilling your beans.” Ryan rolled his eyes as if he was thoroughly unimpressed by Shane’s attempt to distract him.</p><p>Well, a man could only try– especially in times of desperation like now. </p><p>“Patience. I need to prepare myself for your reaction.” Shane exasperatedly muttered, bravado wearing thin as Ryan’s eyes lit up at his statement. </p><p>“Oh! Is it <em> that </em> embarrassing?” Ryan teased, dancing around Shane with such glee and freedom; all forms of annoyance and embarrassment left Ryan without any trace nor mark.</p><p>“I am reconsidering telling you as we speak.” Shane glowered at Ryan, crossing his arms in an attempt to shield himself away from his rather obnoxious and terrible, awful friend he has. </p><p>“I promise I won’t react at all. Come on, you’re killing me here.” Ryan whined, pouting monstrously as he tugged onto Shane’s forearm for dear life; further proving to Shane how much of a man-child his best friend truly is. </p><p>It was moments like this he wished Ryan was much less adept at making the taller man fold like a house of cards with a whine and pout– because he has now realised, far too late, that Ryan does not deserve to have such a hold over Shane.</p><p>“–Marcus is arranging a marriage for me.” Shane sighed deeply, letting his words dance along with the breezing wind as he took a seat on the green grass of the glade; painfully aware of the eyes that bored intensely into Shane’s head.</p><p>“I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?” Ryan exclaimed in shock, eyes still trained on Shane’s face as he dropped down onto the ground beside Shane with a loud thud. </p><p>“You heard it, Ry. That bastard is forcing me to marry someone from a powerful royalty.” Shane laughed humorlessly, comforting himself by grazing and gently patting the wild grass below him as though it was a dear pet of his.</p><p>“What about Liam?” Ryan–sweet, hopeful Ryan–suggested with optimism wrapped up in each word as though he was unaware of the calamity that was Shane’s father. </p><p>Or a diabeł, as his grandmother <em>fondly </em>titled. </p><p>“Liam is a commoner, Ryan.” Shane patiently said, tearing his eyes away from the grass below him to gaze up at the sky above where the sun was hidden behind the thick clouds– content to be out of everyone’s sight and let the comforting chill reign the weather. </p><p>“Have you told Marcus, though?” Ryan quietly questioned, surprising Shane by taking hold of his unoccupied hand and tracing aimless patterns on Shane’s palm; a small show of comfort that Shane truly appreciates.</p><p>“Does not matter. Scott had tried <em> and </em> failed– rather miserably too.” Shane softly replied, closing his eyes as he mentioned Scott; pity tickling the back of his throat at the mention of his disowned brother. </p><p>The man had been nothing but wise beyond his years and full of kindness that would never allow him to survive in the world of politics and darkness; it was the thing that led people to favour and adore him–</p><p>Yet, also the reason he was cast away and shunned as if he was a chopped liver. </p><p>“Man– I feel sorry for whoever is going to marry you.” Ryan huffed in faux pity, snapping Shane out of his spiralling thoughts in a way that only Ryan could do so masterfully. </p><p>“You little shit,” Shane wheezed in surprise, turning his head to look at Ryan who now had an amused little smile on his face– albeit it was far too hesitant for Shane’s tastes. </p><p>And so, Shane returned his smile just to see the hesitation melt away from Ryan’s face; encouraging the younger man to continue with the little bit he had in mind because humour is always preferable over somberness. </p><p>“I mean I can’t imagine what suffering Princess Katharine the Ditzy would go through if she had to marry you.” Ryan began gleefully, mentioning Katherine first and foremost just as Shane had expected. </p><p>Just because Katherine had made goo-goo eyes at Shane’s way and forced herself upon his rather queer self <em>twice </em>like a cat in heat, does not mean she would be willing to marry him now. </p><p>Especially after the way he had rejected her the second time. </p><p>Honestly, Ryan is nothing but predictable when it comes to the art of teasing and jesting. </p><p>“Oh please. I would rather drink rat poison than marry that promiscuous, airheaded woman.” Shane haughtily snuffed, mouth pulled into a faux frown as he glared at Ryan; unfortunately, Ryan was far too busy wheezing to witness such an expressive face. </p><p>“But you have to marry her!” Ryan squealed out, barely holding himself up from all the wheezing that he fell and leaned on Shane’s side as he clutched his chest– trying with all his might to catch his breath.</p><p>“It won’t be Princess Ditzy. Her family is too hippy and free-loving for Marcus and their power is nothing compared to the Madej Empire.” Shane argued, shuddering as he recalled how desperate she was and how utterly unattractive her personality was. </p><p>Do not get him wrong, it is not that he was repulsed by women as a whole– he was as bisexual as they may come and loved both sides; it was simply that he does not find aggressive, wanton beings appealing in any shape or form.</p><p>“Princess Anna-Marie, the great <em> Bitch </em> would be more suited, wouldn’t she?” Ryan jested, stroking his chin with his fingers–looking like an absolute moron–as if he was contemplating how Shane would look like if he were to marry someone so tasteless.</p><p>“I do not understand why you hate such a cunning and low-quality woman? I thought you have taken her to bed before?” Shane smirked, innocently bringing up a piece from the past that would surely make Ryan fluster and bumble. </p><p>“Well, if you are married to her then you’d know that her down under is quite– putrid,” Ryan shuddered, the horror behind his eyes telling more of the story than his words ever could. </p><p>“Is that why you kicked her out of your room after 5 minutes? I thought you had some issues with your stamina.” Shane hummed in thought, all while he pointed his index finger skyward before limping said finger till it was crooked and soft– </p><p>providing a perfect visual of what Shane had <em>really </em>thought.</p><p>“Just for that, I hope Marcus chose her for you.” Ryan pointed out dramatically, voice so threatening and indignant that Shane could not help but smile fondly at his act– even if it was technically Ryan wishing the worst for Shane.</p><p>“Wait. What about Princess Sara? Miss Bubblegum? She’s quite funny and fun to be around with. Adorable too.” Ryan rushed miles per minute, eyes lighting up and grin bright on his face as he thought of their mutual friend; removing the previous princesses from his mind in a snap.</p><p>“I would consider myself lucky if he even thought of her as a candidate.” Shane shook his head, knowing all too well that marrying the purple-haired princess was too far-fetched of an idea– even under the circumstances he was in now.</p><p>“Why not?” Ryan asked, an innocent form of bewilderment taking over the bright eyes and winning smile he had; reminding Shane of how truly glad he was that Marcus never took interest in acquainting with Ryan.</p><p>“Sara’s family is much weaker than Princess Katharine’s. I think she already has a girlfriend too.” Shane casually replied, omitting the fact that Sara’s mother had an affair with Marcus and was sure he would not be capable of holding back his cutting words if he were to meet her.</p><p>“That’s unfortunate. Well, at least you still have Princess Devon.” Ryan hummed, unceremoniously dropping his head on Shane’s lap as he folded into a fetal position beside Shane before taking Shane’s hand once again to fidget with.</p><p>He should really discourage Ryan from doing this; after all, the ride back to the castle would be a pain if his leg was to fall asleep from the weight of Ryan’s noggin– and all Ryan would do is mock him for his horse riding skills if he were to complain during that said ride.</p><p>“Dear God, No. It would be far too awkward if I had to marry Princess Devon.” Shane answered instead, his disgustingly soft side felt far too guilty to even try to push Ryan off of him; verbally or physically. </p><p>How could he? When Ryan looked so serene and at ease as if he was about to be lulled to sleep by the breezing wind and sweet melodies of mother nature?</p><p>“Why would it be? She’s one of the most badass princesses I’ve ever met.” Ryan huffed, face contorted into one of his few upset-puppy expressions as though he was personally offended about Shane’s refusal.</p><p>“Did you forget that I lost my virginity to her eldest brother?” Shane chuckled, taking his free hand to press on the skin between Ryan’s brows where it bunched up; causing the latter to bat Shane’s hand away as if it were a fly.</p><p>“Prince Garrett?” Ryan asked in sheer confusion, looking up at Shane with a sceptical look on his face; in a way that he seems to find Shane’s ability to bag someone as charming and handsome as Garrett <em>impossible</em>.</p><p>Shane would be offended if it were not for the fact that Garrett was the one who approached Shane first and begged for his attention– in a way only bottoms could. </p><p>“No, Ryan. I bagged Garfield.” Shane sarcastically droned, melting into chuckles when Ryan sputtered out nonsense; caught off guard by Shane’s answer.</p><p>“Attitude!” Ryan complained, letting go of Shane’s hand with a flair as though it had burnt him. </p><p>Rude.</p><p>“Can you imagine if I returned from my Honeymoon with Princess Devon and Garrett is just there with a knowing look when she came back already pregnant?” Shane mused, moving his free hand to comb through Ryan’s hair– surprised to find little to no product on it.</p><p>“Dearie me, Shane’s a sharpshooter!” Ryan shrilled, voice lilted into a high-pitched falsetto; mimicking a female voice– or perhaps, attempting to mimic Princess Devon.</p><p>“I know what you mean. He almost blinded me back then, you know.” Shane followed suit with the bit, voice deep and gruff, a far cry from how Garrett truly sounded; fortunately, it was enough to provide the outcome he wanted–</p><p>of Ryan bursting into cackles, delighted and oh so tickled by Shane’s little performance.</p><p>“Yeah. Let’s hope you don’t get Princess Devon.” Ryan nodded, expressive sombre and business-like– effectively bringing an amused smile out of Shane and a deep desire to pinch Ryan’s cheeks as grandmothers would. </p><p>“Or any of them, really.” Shane quietly muttered meaningless words that made it seem like he had control over who he could marry, striking back the reality that he had no choice here– and all he could do was wish for the best. </p><p>Well, if his wishes are to come true, Shane wished that it would at least be a prince– someone that he could potentially be attracted to, someone he could be amicable with, or at least someone he could <em>pretend </em>to love in the face of the public.</p><p>“If you need any help from me–” Ryan began sympathetically, looking up at Shane with brown, doe-eyes that was filled with so much– love and kindness, that Shane could not help but feel overwhelmed by the rush of fondness that was only reserved for Ryan.</p><p>“Thank you, Ry.” Shane sincerely said, a bittersweet tone in his words– for they both knew that there was only so much that Ryan could do; and even then, it would never be enough to let Shane escape from the trap he now calls marriage. </p><p>“Yeah. Anytime.” Ryan sweetly replied, taking Shane’s hand once more to squeeze it; it was done with such finality and conviction that it felt like they had sealed a deal. </p><p>He was not sure whether it was a good sign– but he knew for sure that it felt comforting. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am all over their friendship and the lack of toxic masculinity. I mean! All the affection and fondness, I cannot cope with this surplus. Also, I did not lie when I said that this is a MASSIVE chapter. My arms are cramped. Call the Ambulance people!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to all who has taken the time to read, like and comment on this story! Your feedback and support means a lot to me and helps me in improving my writing skills. I apologise for any mistakes I might have made. </p><p>Do not forget to Subscribe to the story to be updated for new Chapters!</p><p>- Lis</p></blockquote></div></div>
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